The Magpie's Accomplice
by R-Tarandus
Summary: AU. All Harrison Roe has ever wanted is a family. And sometimes, it seems like the closest thing he has to one is driving away all hope of that. Slow Build Slash. Pairings: Harry X Tom, Harry X Others, and canon. Drabble-ish.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed Seeking Beta**

**R-Tarandus: **This isn't going to be a time-travel story. Well...it is. But they don't time-travel in the story. But it's set in the past. It's that very cliché plot that we've all read before, but regardless I hope you enjoy my rendition. And I hope you enjoy reading it...or whatever. Title is to be debated. My first story, please review.

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PROLOGUE

In the scorching Summer of 1930 a waif was burdened onto the world. His father, a softhearted farm boy. His mother, the would-be heir of the Potter clan. Raised with all the pride and comforts of a pureblood household, what a shock it must have been when she heard her brother (14 years her junior) was to take the place as head. And what more, she was to be married in the Spring to the Nott's sniveling heir! In a fit of rebellious outrage, she took to the neighboring countryside.

In a mere week she had found the perfect weapon against her father, a gullible, besotted man. Filth, by all standards, but with his emerald eyes she found herself stomaching his courting. Goaded on by her father's silent fuming, this affair carried out for several months, and in time she found herself filled with child. Birthed in secret and discarded to a distant muggle orphanage, the child was soon forgotten. And the child's father, heartbroken at the rejection of his long time lover, died a broken man.


	2. Deprivation

**REVISION. Sorry. Some minor grammatical errors and I've cut the 2nd part into 3 bits for the sake of drabbles. So, so sorry. Complete AN in the 5th part.**

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Harry: age 6 Tom: age 10

"Can't wait 'til I have a family of my own."

His companion shot him an irritated scowl, setting down his book. "I thought we'd discussed this. Hardly anyone would bother taking in some dirty bastard in times like these, forget a pair of them." But regardless of his friend's negativity, Harrison's smile carried on.

"No, no. Like with a big house, and a wife, and with some kids of my own! And with a big field out front and a-"

"And why the hell would you want any of that? You can't even take care of yourself," muttered Tom.

Harrison, knowing there'd be no winning this battle, gave a sigh. "What about you? Haven't you ever wanted something like that?"

And Tom, with a barely noticeable upturn to his mouth said, "Why would I need that? I have you, don't I?"

At the time such words relieved young Harrison to no end. Only in the future would it be known that such mentality would be the ruin of him.


	3. Diversity

It didn't take long for the other children to realize there was something odd about Tom Riddle and Harrison Roe. Something in the way they walked, and talked, the way they huddled together in the grass, talking of things beyond their years. And even more so, the queer things that went on around them. Strange, terrible things.

A high-pitched scream had engulfed the orphanage, soon followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. "Mrs. Cole! It's Billy Stubbs rabbit!" The poor creature was found hanging from the rafters of the orphanage. His owner standing nearby in shock, grief not yet hitting him. And queer enough it was, that the whole time this went on Tom Riddle stood in the shadows, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Of course there were other things, harmless little things. Like when little Harry fell from the tree out front with not a scratch to be seen. And when he dropped one of Ms. Wool's china while cleaning them, and it did not in fact shatter into a hundred pieces.

And maybe this was why it came to no surprise when the two were called into a talk with an oddly dressed older gentleman.


	4. Greed

A year later.

"Who are you?"

This seemed to only fluster the man farther. "Well, you see Tom, my name is Horace Slughorn and I'm a teacher at a school for very special people. A school of magic for people like you and me."

"Magic? Tch. You're from the asylum, aren't you?", it wasn't a baseless accusation. The man had been looking at him with a mild disgust since the beginning of their meeting.

"It's-It's understandable that you'd think that, but I can prove it!" Under the boy's careful scrutiny he pulled out a stick. And with a wave of it and some muttered words his gray garb turned to green.

But Tom was staring at the stick, face contorted in greed. "Where can I get one of those?"

Slughorn seemed pleased to be getting somewhere, "it's called a wand, and you'll be able to buy one with the rest of your school supplies. Erm, of course we have a fund provided for those in your situation."

"There's someone else. Someone here with that can do it too...magic."

"Are you quite sure? Well, I suppose that's not too uncommon. But remember, the utmost secrecy must be kept about our existence." Looking down uncomfortably he continued, "Would you like some assistance shopping for supplies?"

"I can handle it, just give me directions."

The man nodded in relief, doing just that. Looking up at the boy with a final scrutiny he gave his goodbye. And Tom, more with a sense of assurance than amazement, took off to seek for his companion.


	5. I AM A PITIFUL EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING

**SO SORRY. SO SORRY. Not an installment, just moving shit around for the sake of my sanity. I've been preoccupied with seeing encaged animals and reading KHR fanfics. Feel free to leave hurtful reviews (beggars can't be choosers) and continue with your lives if you have them. :'D**


	6. Possessions

**R-Tarandus: Hey, sorry for the late update. I really appreciate all the support you guys are giving me. R&amp;R and all that.**

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Unknown by the world, a small boy sat crying in the barren yard of a rundown orphanage. Sniffling dejectedly he made no attempt to wipe away his tears, opting to wait out his pain. And maybe this is why he didn't notice the arrival of the very cause of his grief.

"Harry."

But the boy did not look up.

"Harry."

Nothing.

"Look at me!"

"T-Tom?"

His companion stood directly in front of him, blocking out the glare of the hot summer sun. Tom's brown eyes were softer than usual, and the expression on his face was one reserved solely for Harry.

"Don't be so selfish. How do you think I feel?"

The two embraced each other in a quiet consolation. An act that was soon repeated as Tom left their 'home' on the 1st of September. It was with no great amount of fanfare that Tom departed the orphanage, but Mrs. Cole, the matron, would never forget the possessive look he had fixated on his friend as they gave their final farewells.

Tom took satisfaction in the fact that his departure could elicit such a response from the younger boy. He felt no guilt in this feeling. It was only right, after all. Like the various possessions he had 'collected' during his years at the orphanage, Harry belonged to him, and he owed nothing to the boy.


End file.
